The Meaning of Dreams,
By H. Addinaton Bruce.
T is well known, for example, that dreams nave sumiuau-u mC
to remarkable intellectual achievements, and nave even supplied
the material for these achievements. Thus, Coleridge composed
"Kubla Khan" in a dream. Tartini got his -Devil's Sonata" trom
a dream in which the devil appeared and challenged him to a
musical competition. It was a dream that gave .Voltaire , the
fir,t rnto of his Henriade." and Dante's "Divina Commedia ib
likewise said to have been inspired by a dream.
Many noveUsts, on their own admission, have obtained the plo s or soma
of their b?st works from materials provided in dreams. A particularly Jm
Sressfve instance is that of Robert Louis Stevenson, whose "Chapter on
Seam," in nis book "Across the Plains," should be read by all who wjiW
Jfarn wha dreams can do for a man intellectually The solution o ' Jing
mathematical problems, the ideas necessary to complete
been supplied by dreams. Occasionally the dreamer has been known o rise
in his sleep and jot down the information thus acquired.
In such cases he usually forgets all about the helpful dream, and-
ening is greatly surprised at finding the record he has made of V. W bum
shows that-as with the visions so potently influencing health-it h poasib e
for dreams to aid a man in an intellectual vaj. without his being consciously
aware of them. Success.
The Growth of
Italian Commerce
13 v Homer Edmiaton.
BRHAPS it is not generally known how remarkably ualy s com
merce in the near East has grown within recent years. In 1900
her exports to Turkey were valued at about $7,500,000. and her
imports from the same country at about $5,000,000. Four years
later the exports had nearly doubled, and the imports had in
creased bv $2,500,000. This development of commerce along the
P
Mm
routes once dominated by tne Venetian repuunc i
due in large part to the initiative of the present King, and has brought with
it renewed prosperity to the ancient and glorious commercial city. Nor is this
eastward activity confined to trade and industry. It is well known that many
inhabitants of the Dalmatian coast, though Austrian subjects, are Italian in
race, language, and sympathies. And powerful unofficial organizations, like the
Dante Society, are busilv promoting the Italian language and culture through
out the rejuvenated Turkish Empire. It is even asserted that, in consequence
of improved relations between Quirinal and Vatican, religious orders, espe
cially the Franciscans, have eagerly taken up this Italian propaganda. At-
lantie.
The Law gf Love.
By Elbert Hubbard.
N the beginning of his career man is repressed and suppressed by
nature. Fear haunts his footsteps. The shadows of the forests
are filled with the unknown. To get out into the open out into
the clearing where he can see is his desire.
And in the great order of things this is well, for the impulse
to see and know leads to all that is good.
But here we find that great primal tear of the forest the
place of hiding! It was the monkey that took to the plains, that stood upright
and observed, and learned to run, that evolved into a man.
Out on the plains the man recovers from his fright and looks around. He
finds a few trees, and near them is a bubbling spring of water.
He is refreshed by the water, and the shade is grateful.
Then it dawns Upon him by slow degrees that trees and water always go
together, and that society is only possible where these things exist.
Surely that Texas man was right: Water, trees and society are all that
hell lacks of being paradise.
Man contrives to divert the water of streams and plants trees.
These trees grow, just in proportion as they are wisely watered and cul
tivated. And here is a thing that man does not know until way along in the
game, that is, that in cultivating the trees he cultivates himself.
'But man notes this that where trees grow showers come, too, from the
skies, for water and foliage mutually attract.
So, from a state of fear of the forest, man learns to love the trees. From
being depressed by nature, he ec-operates with her.
He perceives that man himself is a part of nature and under the domain
of the same great natural laws that control the tree.
The last lesson is that in a great degree we cannot only co-operate with
nature, but we can also control her. So, from being a victim, man becomes a
master.
This discovery of unity and oneness, and next the mastevship, is the work
of those rare souls, men of great faith, great originality, individuality and
power of initiative whom, for lack of a better term, we call geniuses.
It is easy to say, 'We are a part of all we see and hear and feel,'' when
many others are saying the same.
But how was it when men sang, ''This world is but a desert drear, heaven
is my home."
The genius is the man who stands at the pivotal point and flings into the
teeth of entrenched prejudice his own thought, pitting himself against the
Ignorance of the past.
With no uncertain tone and without apology ho lifts up his voice and cries
aloud, "They have said unto you in olden times, but I say unto you!"
And again, "A new commandment I give unto you tLat ye Vjve one an-
otner. .ew Yort American.
GETTING CLOSE TO NATURE.
What the Vacat'on Season Means in
Its Broad Aspect.
The mountains, the plains, the
woods, and the fields all take their
toll of the American vacationist. The
tour of Europe, of Egypt, and the
Holy Land take their share. But the
tribute taken by the resorts by ocean,
lake, and stream is mere than all the
rest. There is something in the
thought of days spent in intimate
and inspiring association with pound
ing surf, rippling waves or noisy rap
ids that gives the sure relief of
quick forgetfulness of the toil of of
fice or study. It is always so when
the vacation is glimpsed in retrospect.
It is even more so in prospect. And
as the grind, the stress, and the
strain of urban employment increase
as increase they must in our eager
race for the quick dollar the call of
the pleasant waters of the land comes
every year louder and clearer to the
tired dweller in the city. He hears
it. and listens to it sometimes as one
who may not obey it. Finally he
yields to terr;Tvtation and fotfows its
voice. He makes his first visit to
shore or river. From that day he is
lost to the arm of hopeless, hap
less vacationless toilers. He has
joied the army of those joyful and
triumphant ones who, landsmen
eleven months in the year, look al
ways gaily forward to their annual
term of service upon the happy wa
ters of vacation land.
The business cf tak'nt vacations,
taken with tint of furnishing the va
cationists the n'aee where a vacation
may be had with comfort, recreation,
end reil benefit, is a great industry.
It furnishes employment to hundreds
of thousands of men ami women. It
pives a new value to places and habi
tations that before were of ths wil
derness. Ant thi3 value is not al'.
sentimental, though it has its root in
sentiment, as the best of what is ma
terial always Tins.
Few of us stop to think that the
fortnight of absence from duty, for
the clerk, the bookkeeper, or the por
fesslonal man or woman means any
thing more than needed recupera
tion for the recipient. But it does
mean much more than that. The va
cation touches with 'beneficent hand
many persons besides the man who
takes cr receives it. The vacation
does its part in the distribution of
labor, of new opportunity. Of wealth,
of education, of civilization. In giv
ing a new valuation to the waste
places of the earth, it gives new and
better employment to those who dwell
in and near them.
The vacation brings what we call
civilization a little closer to nature,
and civilization is a little purer and
fresher for it. It bringa to those
who live close to nature some of the
means of progress that belongs to
civilization. It gives them hint and
help toward ways of life that have
less of drudgery of hand and body,
and more of the light of mind and
soul. -Thus the benefit is reciprocal,
J though, up to date, civilization tias
profited most by the barter with na
ture. Rochester Herald.
Enticing The Collection.
It is told of a newly appointed
Scotoh minister that on his first Sun
daiy in office he had reason to com
plain of the poorness of the collec
tion. "Mon," replied one of the eld
ers, "they are close vera close.
P.ut," confidently, "the auld meenis-tc-r.
he put three or four saxpence
into the plate hissel,' just to gie them
a start. Of course he took the sax
pence awa' with him afterward."
The new minister tried the same
plan, 'but the next Sunday he again j
had to report a dismal failure. Ths j
total fo'lection was not only small, ;
but he was grieved to find that his
own sixpences were missing.
"Ye may be rt better preacher than
the auld ineenister." exclaimed the
elder, "bv.t if ye had half the knowl
edge o' the world ye'cl ha' done what
he did an' glued the sixpence to the
plate." Chicago News.
Tradition asserts, according to a
writer in the Scientific American,
that the first to sacrifie;? himself to
the proMem o" flying was Wang Tu,
a Chines" uiandaria of about the year
2000 13. C.
THE OLD, OLD HOME.
When I long for sainted memories,
Like angel troops they come
If 1 fold my eyes to ponder
Oli tht old, old home.
The heart lias many passages
Through which tint feelings roam,
But Its middle aisle Is sacred
To thoughts of old, old home.
Where infancy was sheltered,
Like rosebuds from the blast;
Where irirl hood's brief elysium .
In .loyousiifBS was passed;
To that sweet spot forever,
As to some hallowed dome.
Life's pilgrim- bt nds her vision
'Tis her old, old home.
A father sat, how proudly,
Bv that old hearthstone's rays.
And told his children stories
Of his early manhood's days;
And ono soft eye was beaming,
Prom child to child 'twould roam;
Thus a mother counts her treasures,
In the old, old home.
The birthday gifts and festivals.
The blended vesper hymn,
(Some dear one who was swelling it,
Is with the Seraphim) ;
The fond "good-nights" at bedtime
How quiet sleep would come.
And fold vis all together,
Jn the old, old home.
Like a wreath of scented flowerf,
Close intertwined each heart;
But time and cha.nge in concert,
Hav-4 blown the wreath apart,
But deifr and sainted memories
Like angels ever come.
If I fold my arms and ponder
On the old, old home.
The Trysting Place
By Miss Leila Noland
Janet Norris came slowly down the
gravel walk, pulling thoughtfully at
the strings of her fresh white sun
bonnet. She remembered afterwards
that old Father Smith had paused at
the gate with his usual garrulous com
ments on village matters, to which
she had responded so like in a dream
that he grew instinctively silent and
passed on.
Janet reached the gate and stopped
there a moment, looking up and down
the one street of the village; then,
mechanically lifting the latch, she
opened the gate and stepped outside.
She walked away toward the east, for
no other reason of which she was
aware than that she was going in the
opposite direction from the one taken
by the old man who had just spoken
to her. She wanted to be alone.
She was free. She was trying, per
haps with more effort than it should
have called for, Ho get the full con
sciousness of that fact. She was free,
she kept repeating to herself, free as
she had longed to be, as she had
thought for weeks she must be. It was
for Paul's sake, too. He, too, had
tired of the bondage, and she had tak
en some pains to have him see it that
way. True, she had almost wavered
in her conviction that they had been
mistaken in the kind of 'regard they
had for each other when she saw how
he at first received it. But then, what
more natural than that he should try
to save her pride? Also, though he
had seemed sincere fn his protesta
tions and she liked to believe always
what he said to her, still she could
not, or at least was afraid to, trust
remonstrance, and pleading that might
well have grown out of the emotion
of the moment; particularly was she
afraid to trust them as she remem
bered the dull days that lay behind.
How all her nature revolted at the
thought of boring him, how her heart
froze at the thought that he could
bore her! Yes, it was distinctly for the
best that they should go their separate
ways. But her spirit was not exalted
as she had believed it would be on lay
ing aside the shackles, and she moved
though she did not know it, like one
in the shadow of grief.
A brief engagement was a serious
thing any way you looked at it. She
knew also that in the village everybody
knows and discusses everybody else's
affairs, and that this gossip would keep
the wound open. They would say
she did not know her own mind. She
shrank far more from the pity that
many of them would give her, which
would be worse, perhaps, than the
blame, not knowing, some of them
would give him. But he was not to
blame, and they should not blame him
because he was a man. She would
see to that as well as she could. That
much she owed him.
Yes, that much ana a great deal
more.
She had entered a small wood and
was on the trail leading to the pretty
lake amon gthe hills.
Her Paul no, not hers now was a
child of the village, like herself, but
ambition had led him afar. Her mind
and work had brought back to her rich
gleanings from the great world, and
she had received them eagerly and
made them part of herself. She quail
ed at the thought of the narrow life
of the village that was to be her por
tion her portion of freedom, for
sooth henceforth unrelieved. Oh, no,
no.no! She would hold fast to the
better, higher things he had taught her.
It should not be all in vain. She
would live worthily ofthe months in
which they had been so much to "'
other. Their ways of life would bs
different and far apart, but it ee.'
he chanced to hear her tpoken of he
should have cause to remember with
pride that they had once been friends,
even in the presence of the beautiful,
noble woman whom he would one day
marry and who would make him hap
py. He so much deserved the best
that life could give that she was sure
he would attract and win it in the
end.
The trail led her into an open space.
She quickened her steps toward a
clump of elders, where, cunningly half
concealed and half-revealed, to be
spied out only by those who knew, a
weather-beaten blue ribbon was tied
to one of the twigs. It marked the
place where they parted the bushes on
the way to a secluded nook to which
they often went together. There was
not even a trail on the other side. Smil
ing sadly, she encircled the twig with
tender fingers, sliding the ribbon for
ward and off, staining it with the green
life of crushed leaves. She had wan
dered this way without conscious in
tent, but now, holding the ribbon close
ly over her heart with one hand, with
the other she held back the bushes.
Passing through this barrier she ran
along, stumbling1 occasionally over a
rough place in the ground or brush
ing too near a slender sapling, half
groping her way, her eyes almost
blind with unshed tears. She neared
the edge of the lake, and skirting a
sharp curve in the bank stopped, her
attention fixed on a large, partly up
rooted poplar tree. Years ago it had
been flung to the earth by a violent
storm, but with sturdy courrge it had
strengthened its few roots which re
mained in the ground, drawing nour
ishment through them for a luxuriant
glossy mass of foliage, which, formed
a retreat of much interest and beauty
a little amphitheatre, visible only
from the unfrequented lake. She and
Paul had discovered it, and it was
theirs, their haven, a place apart from
the rest of the world, for themselves
alone. She stretched her arms toward
it longingly, but could not enter there
without Paul and she would be with
out him forever now. She sank to the
ground and buried her face in the
crotch of her arm.
"Paul, Paul!" she sobbed, "I want
you, I want you!"
Instantly there was great perturba
tion among the foliage of the fallen
poplar.
Her head raised so quickly that the
sunbonnet fell back and the tree shad
ows played over her startled, wondering-
face.
Paul was plunging through the pop
lar's great branches; soon he was lift
ing her to her fect.
"You came here, too," she murmured
falteringly, her eyes smiling through
happy tears, "as I did .because you
couldn't help it?"
"I came to wait for you," he an
swered. "I believed that you loved
me and knew if you did that you
would come again." Boston Post.
CACTUS PATCH IN MICHIGAN.
Plant Supposed to Have Been Brought
North by Indian.
Located in the northern portion of
Blue Lake township, coverilng an area
of several acres and preventing to a
great extent the successful fanning
of the land in that vicinity, is an im
mense patch of cactus of the prickly
pear variety. Naturally growing only
in the warmer portions of America,
the spread of the big patch in the ex
treme northern part of Muskegon coun
ty has been the cause of no little com
ment, and the stories of its origin are
numerous.
Nearly half a century ago C. F.
Wheeler, connected with the Agricul
tural Department at that time, in go
ing over Muskegon county happened
upon this strange cactus patch. He
pronounced the plant a native of Ari
zona and was able t explain its pres
eince in Michigan only on the theory
that some Indian tribe, either migrat
ing here willingly or driven north
ward rather than become enslaved to
some more powerful tribe, had brought
the plant.
Legends of how the cactus was
brought to this country are still told
by the residents of Blue Lake, who
have heard from time immemori'al the
stories of its origin from the lips of
aged Indians, wlio fifty years ago
were numerous in the country. The
Indians used to say that the cactus
was brought from Arizona here by
the band of Zuni Indians, who, con
quered by another of the minor tribes,
were forced to accept exile or slavery.
The date of the coming to Michigan
was placed by these Indians at about
the year 1400 from estimates made In
the stories told them by their fore
fathers, and to prove their statements
that the cactus was the best of food
they would burn off the barbs and
make various native dishes of them.
In spite of the climate here the cacti
seem to flourish in the dry regious of
Blue Lake and In the last few years
have been extending the area whic
they cover. Evening Wisconsin. v
10O0 Successful Men.
I have on my desk a list of 1000
successful men of this nation. By
"successful" I do not mean mere mon
eymakers, but men who have given us
new conceptions of steam, electricity,
construction work, education, art, etc.
These are the men who influence our
moral as well as physical lives. They
construct for better things.
How these men started in work is
Interesting. Their first foothold in
work is a fine study.
Three hundred started as farmers
sons. 0
Two hundred started as messenger
boys.
Two "hundred were newsboys.
One hundred were printers' appren
tices. One hundred were apprenticed in
manufactories.
Fifty began at the bottom of rail
way work.
Fifty only 50 had wealthy parents
to give them a start. Juvenile Court
Record.
Dummy Violinists
"How beautifully those two girls
play," said she at the cafe, where two
girls lead th eorchestra. "It is unusu
al. Isn't it?"
"Simplest thing in the world," said
he. "The men behind them are doing
the playing. They are just drawing
their bows back and f.orth and makin-
believe." New York Press.
Playmates.
Now where are the littlest bits of girls,
The littlest comrades of yesterday,
With their dancing eyes, and their danc
ing curls,
And their dancing feet, and their love
of play?
Where are they gone, all the girls we
knew.
Who laughed and romped and who
danced and played,
. Whose feet were pink, and who loved
" to wade?
One has walked far from the childhood
land
With never a lingering look or sigh,
And I walked with her, und hand in
hand
And never we noted the years drift by.
And never we noted the blooms grow
thin
Along the roads it was ous to go,
For our lips were laughing, and deep
within
Our heurts were the blossoms wo used
to know.
And another I know who has walked afar
From ths land where the streamlets
are eool to wade,
From the land where the nodding clov
ers are
And oak trees scatter a cooling shade;,
And she is a woman of dancing eyes
Of the gladdest blue that is in the
dawn.
She never has guessed there are cloudy
sUlcs.
She never suspects that her youth is
gone.
And one is a. woman so thin and gray.
So bent with struggle, and worn and
old
The gladdest of all of them yesterday.
Her hair held most of the sun's red
gold;
But she walked down a way that was set
with graves.
And her loved ones paused, and she
came alone
Along the years, and the pounding waves
Washed out the gladness of years
agone.
And the reason the years have dealt just
so
With the littlest girls with the dancing
feet
It is not given to us to know;
Some lives are bitter and some are
sweet.
And why the bitter Is poured for some.
And joy with others goes hand in
hand.
We mnv not know until God says:
"Come."
And m-o i go home; then we'll under
stand. And the little firls of yesterday
Shall be as young as they ever were.
They shall seek the one who has wept
and say, .
As they snuggle up to and comfort her:
"ine ones you loved so are here, and
here
They huve waited for you while the
years went by,
Ard we are with you and love you. dear.
And heaven is heaven, so don't you
cry!"
But one there is who has never grown
Too big for the frocks that she used to
wear, -
She sank to sleep in the years agone
Where the clover waved and the sky
was fair
And always, and alwavs. and always we
Have heard her laughter, and heard
her call,
And dancing and laughing and singing
she
Shali run to meet us and love us all.
Houston Post.
The Man in the Moon
Suspend a large sheet between fold
ing doojp. In the front room place
the company, in darkness. In the
back room, on the floor, set a lighted
lamp, with a reflector of looking glass
or highly polished tin. A person
standing between the light and the
sheet will seem magnified to immense
proportions in the other room, and if
he jump3 over the light it will appear
as though he jumped to the ceiling.
He may perform a number of humor
ous feats, dressed as a witch, or any
character. Ruth Weed, in the New
York Tribune.
The Pequot War.
The Pequot Indians. living in Con
necticut drove another tribe, which
also lived there, and then sold frheir
lands along the Connecticut river to
the Dutch. The English settlers ob
jected to this. They brought back the
Indians whom the Pequots had driven
away and built a fort to protect them.
They wished to buy from the Indians
the land the Pequots had sold to the
Dutch.
The Pequots grew angry and began
killing English traders and making
raids on the Connecticut settlers and
torturing to death all whom they
could find.
In 1637 Capt. Mason, with a com
pany of Connecticut and Massachu
setts men, was sent into the Pequot
country. The Pequot chief, Sosjacus,
had a village at Mystic, in Connectl
cut, defended by a strong palisade.
At daybreak, while the savages were
asleep, the white men surrounded the
village and set fire to it. The Indians
were panic stricken and made no or
ganized defense. In less than two
hours about 700 Indians, men, women
and children, had perished. Some
were burned to death in their wig
wams and some were shot while try
ing to escape. A war of extermina
tion followed, and Indians of other
tribes were frightened into keeping
peace with the Indians for many
years. Alice March, in the Washing
ton Star.
Accent, not Vocabulary.
This little incident, and a true one,
is for the benefit of those who labor
under the impression that they can
net express their sentiments without
resorting to profanity:
Torn Hinde is a Missourian who
can, when occasion offers, put up a
pretty fair sample of sulphurous lan
guage, but- once upon a timo there
came to pass a moment when the
mildest kind of words from his lips
expressed more than all the profan
ity attributed to our army in rJardrs.
Tom, together with Charley Zook
and Tom Curry, was fishing Ivr crop
pie in Elg Lake, and was Ftartied
when he discovered that he had hook
ed a big channel cat. He had a light
rod and a small line, and it required
unusual skill to play the big fish and
not lose him. But Tom was equal to
the occasion. Round and round the
boat the big fish circled, and Tom
played him with a master hand. Fi
nally the fish, tired cut, came gently
floating up to the side of the boat.
"Got him, Charley!" gasped Tom.
Zook Teached over the edge of the
boat, wrapped the line a couple of
times around his wrist and gave a
jerk with a result that might have
been expected. The line broke iand
away scooted the big catfish to free
dom. Zook and Curry leaned back in the
boat and waited fo.- Tom to express
himself.
With a look upon his face that nt
artist, living or dead, ' could ever
catch, Tom propped dpVn upon his
seat and exclaimed in a heartbroken
tone of voice:
"Oh, Charley!"
"That was the most profane ac
cent I ever heard coming from ? a
man's lips," said Curry when he told
the story. Commoner.
Piggies and Wiggles.
When May's grandmamma and
grandpapa came to pay a visit, they
brought to her the dearest little dog
gie, so fat and woolly that he could
hardly walk; in fact, he didn't walk,
he waddled. And because of his be
ing so Tound and growing rounder---May
called him Piggies. And a week
later there came to the door one
morning the sweetest wee bit of a
white kitten you ever saw. And it
mewed and seemd to say to May, who
had seen it first: "Mew, I want a
home and something to eaL" And
May brought the kitten in, and when
she held it in her arms it wiggled s
to get down that May decided to call
it Wiggles. And, more than that,
she decided to keep Wiggles as a pet,
making a pair of pets, namely, Piggies
and Wiggles.
Well, the first day of Wiggles' arri
val she was introduced to Piggies,
but they both behaved very badly; in
deed. Piggies was not the aggressor,
however, for he was so fat that he
was half asleep, and didn't seem to
care whether his place in the house
as pet was to be shared by a pesky
white kitten or not. All he wanted
or appeared to want was a cool
place to lie down, a place where tne
flies would not bother him. But it
was different with Wiggles. She was
a cat to begin with, and a, cat never
will act friendly toward a dog at
first. Really, they sometimes refuse
to be friendly to a dog at any time,
spitting and bowing up their backs
arid fuzzing up their tail3 something
dreadful to see. And just so it was
with Wiggles. She spat hard at Pig
gies, at the fame time bowing up her
back and fuzzing up her tail till she
looked all deformed, and might have
been any other sort of animal than
what she really was.
'Oh, aren't you ashamed. Wiggles,
to behave so unsociably toward dear,
fat, little Piggies? See how darling
he is." Just as May said this Piggies
fell over on a rug and went right off
to sleep. Oh, his tummy was so full
of milk and cake! And he just could
not keep awake, even though a mere
white kitten did make faces at him.
Then May gat a saucer of sweet
milk and placed it bc-fore( Wiggles.
Mercy me, how she did lp "it up! It
must have been a long time since she
had eaten, for she seemed half
starved. And while she was thus en
gaged, her tail and back became nor
mal in appearance again, and her
ugly temper seemed to have been
swallowed with the milk-. Anyway,
she became more sociable in disposi
tion, and when May rubbed her back
she purred the funniest little pur
just like a baby's first laugh and
then fell asleep.
Then an Idea came into May's head.
She would put the sleeping Wiggles
close beside the sleeping Piggies, or
vice versa, for it would never do to
try to carry Wiggles to Piggies, for a
cat sleeps so lightly, and she would
wiake up before she was put in posi
tion. So May picked up the fat, sleep
ing Piggies and carefully, quietly
rdneed him on the same rug with
Wiggles.
Pretty soon Wiggles stretched,
yawned, licked her funny little lips
with the pinkest tongue you ever saw.
Thr ai her eyes fell on her rug compan
ion. Instantly up went her back. She
ppat, fuzzed her tail and glared with
great angry eyes. But Piggle3 slept
on and on, ever and ever so soundly,
not realizing that the enemy was at
his very nose. You would have
thought he would smell danger, for
a doer's nose is so susceptible of dan
ger, but ho did not budge. Then Wig
gloi deliberat2ly walked tip to him
and slapped him on the shoulder with
her paw. But it mie;ht have been the
breeze from the window for all Pig
gies cared. He slept on, merely
crinkling his nose as if to say: "Get
aw.ny. you fly; don't bother me!"
Then little Wiggles decided there
was no use trying to fight alone and
walked a few feet away and lav down,
and was scon fast asleen. And from
that hour she and Piggies became
friends ,and now they a:e real little
chums, romrdng and playing with a
rubber ball for all the world like two
happy children. Washington. Star.